Perfect Disaster
by coleypunk-y2j
Summary: CM Punk truly thought he had it all; the perfect house, the perfect boyfriend, and a perfect job. But what happens when it all gets taken away overnight? SLASH. Rated M for language and later scenes. *MOST LIKELY NOT UPDATING.*
1. Perfect Evening

CM Punk gazed around the room, capturing all of what it had to offer; the glistening chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the beautiful china laid onto the table, the cabinets shining gracefully against the light from the chandelier, and the love of his life at his side.

"Do you like it?" Chris asked a giddy smirk set onto his disheveled, unshaven face.

CM Punk turned to his lover and smiled. "Of course I love it, Jeri." He turned his attention to the table for a moment, and captured the scene in his brain again, hoping to never lose the memory. Finally grasping Jericho's hands in his, he placed his lips to Chris' sweet lips, reveling in the moment.

Chris broke the kiss, and glanced into his boyfriend's glittering eyes. "Sit down, please, I spent forever on this."

Punk laughed carefully and pulled out Jericho's seat, smiling warmly at the blush Jericho's cheeks made when he pushed him in. Galloping over to the other side of the table, and listening to Chris' hushed giggle, Punk accidentally tripped on one of the extra mingling chairs surrounding the table. "Shit!" Punk murmured, watching a delicate china plate tinkle on the edge of the table, and then fall and smash to pieces on the mahogany floor. Groaning quietly, he picked up the larger chunks into his hand and tossed them into the trash bin, and swept the smaller pieces under the table with the back of his hand, as to not disappoint Chris for breaking his expensive plate.

"Are you okay down there?" Jericho asked, his voice a mix of sarcasm and held-back laughter. Punk popped his head up and nodded, a small smirk forming on his face as Jericho smiled at him. "I'm _always_ okay 'down there'," Punk said, a laughter rumbling deep in his throat as Jericho smile-blushed.

"Would you care to join me for a lovely dinner, designed, created, and cooked by my professional chef, Alfonso, Mr. Brooks?" Jericho asked, formal, staring into the brown eyes of CM Punk.

CM Punk, taken aback, stared back at Chris. "Yes, yes I would care to join you, Mr. Jericho." Jericho smiled, and called his chef in. "Bring it in, please." Alfonso nodded, winking carefully at Punk as he turned around, signaling that he'd enjoy what he was going to bring out.

"Well, Chris, thank you much for the meal," CM Punk said, his voice applying to the formal character he was portraying. Jericho nodded at him. "Much appreciated, Mr. Brooks. Much appreciated." Blotting his scruffy beard, Chris called Alfonso in to clear the table. As they waited for Alfonso to clear off the table and leave them be, they texted under the soft cotton tablecloth of the table.

"There you go, Mr. Irvine," Alfonso murmured, walking away to give them privacy. "So, what do you have planned for me now, Chris?" Chris looked into CM Punk's eyes knowingly, and he automatically knew. "Ooh, seductive tonight, are we?" Punk purred softly, the purr escaping his throat lovingly. Stretching across the small, circular table, Punk's lips met Chris' in a sweet rush. Chris kissed back.

Slowly pushing his tongue into Jericho's mouth, Punk took one hand and balanced himself on the table, and used the other one to hold onto the back of Chris' neck, and pulled him closer. Chris got out of his seat and kneeled onto the table, allowing Punk the use of both of his hands. "This is slightly uncomfortable…" Chris moaned in a drawn out tone in Punk's mouth. Punk, sensing Jericho's situation, starting to unzip his pants. "Better," Jericho whispered as Punk pulled them all the way down. Before they got too carried away, they noticed a loud coughing sound, a more subtle way of saying that someone was in the room. They looked up and saw Alfonso, somewhat horrified, holding a bottle of Windex and a cloth to wipe down the table with. "I-uh, I'll be in the other-" Alfonso said, using his thumbs to point to the doors before he ran through them. Punk leaned down into Chris' face and they both laughed before enveloping into a series of small kisses.

The next morning, CM Punk leaned over to his left, like he normally did, and punched Jericho lightly in the bicep. Instead of opening his eyes, somewhat terrified, before realizing what happened, Jericho laid there, limp. He didn't seem to move either. CM Punk curiously lifted the sheet off of him, and noticed that he in fact wasn't moving. "Jericho? Jer-i-choo? Chris? Chris! Chris…! CHRIS!" Punk shook him nervously, and then decided to feel his pulse, to find he didn't have one.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit," Punk repeated, bounding out of his bed and running to his charging cell phone on the table. He quickly picked it up and dialed 911 with minimal effort.

_Hello, you have reached emergency services, what is your emergency?_

"Hi, I just woke up to realize my friend has no pulse, and he's not breathing. Can you like, come and take him to a hospital?"

_Yes, what's your address? _

"Uh, 237 Burbine Street."

_An EMT will arrive shortly. Would you care to stay on the phone with me as medical teams are dispatched? _

"Y-yes please," Punk swallowed nervously, fighting back tears that were pinching at the back of his eyes.

_Has he taken an unreasonable amount of medication or drug in the past 24 hours?_

"No."

_Has he eaten anything he's allergic to?_

"No."

_Okay. Was he acting fine before you went to bed?_

"Yes, he was walking around like he normally does, doing everyday things, and being normal."

_An EMT has arrived, sir, they'll take it from here._

"T-thank you, ma'am. Good-bye."

Phil hung up his phone, and attempted to swallow, but failed as a huge ball of nervousness engulfed his throat. A few men and women dressed in white and black ran in, and asked him where Jericho was. One stayed with Punk as the reality hit him hard and he began to sob. A medical personnel quietly walked into the dining room and looked up into Punk's eyes. His face told it all. "No…This can't be for real." CM Punk tilted his head up to the ceiling and agreed to a few tears as they slowly trickled down his pale face. "It's not that bad," He started. "Chris is actually in a coma, he's hanging on."

"How did he get into a coma?!"

"We really don't know."

CM Punk walked into the bedroom again and took a look at Chris as they wheeled him out. "Where are you taking him?" The personnel looked at him. "We're taking him to the city hospital to get him on life support. I'd advise you to stay here for a while, and come in a few hours." CM Punk sighed. "Can I at least have a minute to say good-bye, you know, in case…" He didn't bother finishing the sentence. They nodded, and stood outside of the closed room.

"Chris, _Te amo tanto. Consiga por favor mejor. No se si puedo vivir sin usted." _One last tear dropped down Punk's face as he told Chris how much he loved him, how much he wanted him to get better, and that he could never live without him, in his second language. Hearing the silence in the room, the men came back in. "Are you ready?" CM Punk nodded. "_Si_, I mean, yes."

CM Punk sat by Chris' unconscious, comatose body, and held his hand. His mind drifted off to the previous night.

_Hey Chris, what's the matter?_

_Nothing, just a bit tired. _

_Are you sure that's it?_

_Yes, Punk, Christ. You're more annoying than a freaking bee. _

_Jeez. Someone is a little pissy. _

_Shut up, asshole. _

_I thought you loved me._

_I fucking do._

_Then why are you being a bitch?_

_Because you provoked it!_

_Shut up. _

_No, you shut up. Ass. _

_Chris! Shut the fuck up! I'm not being the bitch in this situation. You are! _

_I fucking hate you, bitch!_

_Chris, Jesus Christ! Why the fuck are you so fucking pissed off?!_

_I don't feel good._

_Put a sock in it and just friggin' go to bed._

_Fine, I will, jackass. _

CM Punk sighed again, and allowed a few final tears to fall down his cheeks quickly, before he rubbed them away with his sweatshirt. A nurse stationed near Chris reached out her hand and placed it on Punk's shoulder. "I have a feeling Mr. Chris is a fighter, isn't he? You've seen his matches, doll, and I'm sure he's going to fight through this and pull through."

CM Punk nodded slightly and angled his head down at the floor. He felt numb all over. "Why was I such a bitch to him?" He mumbled quietly to himself. Gripping Chris' hand slightly firmer, Punk looked up at the nurse. "Can we have a moment alone, please?" The nurse nodded, and quietly made her exit out of the room and stood by the closed door.

Punk angled his head, so he was looking at Jericho, as well as looking up and out the window. "I know I was a total asshole, but, please, come back to me, Chris. I love you more than words can describe, and it's been that way for a long time. You know that. You've changed my whole personality for the better; you made me believe in love again. You've made me a changed man. And I can never repay you for that. But the point is, Chris, I would be a dead man without you by my side. I need you to point out the good and bad in every situation, and I feel the need to protect you. And this is mentally killing me right now," Punk turned his gaze to the window, and looked up at the clouds. "God, if you could make Chris stay with me, I'd be the luckiest man on this planet. In this whole world, actually. If you can find it in your heart, please, _please _let him live." CM Punk hung his head down and sighed slowly, before rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

The nurse walked back in. "Are you through, hun?" Punk rubbed his eyes, exhausted, and nodded. "I think I'm going to take a nap." The nurse nodded, and stepped to the other side of the room and sat down, monitoring Chris' vital signs from a distance. CM Punk slumped into his seat, yawned lazily, and closed his eyes with minimal effort, drowning into a deep sleep.

+*+*+*+


	2. Perfect Ending

**I'd like to thank xxVioletxxRosexx and Seraphalexiel for reviewing! You don't know how much it means to me to receive a review, whether it be good or bad. It's all constructed criticism. And helps me evolve as a writer. =3**

**+*+*+**

"_**I think he's dying! Someone check his vitals!"**_

"_**We're losing him! Someone get a respirator!"**_

"_**Keep his friend back! Don't let him in!"**_

"_**Blood pressure's falling fast!"**_

"_**He's not going to make it!!"**_

"_**He flat lined!"**_

"_**Patient is pronounced dead at 3:44 am."**_

CM Punk twitched awake, shaking. He immediately whipped his head to Chris' heart monitor. His heart beat was normal, and he was alive. "It was just a dream, just a dream," Phil convinced himself, pulling his legs up to his chest. He could feel his heart pounding in his ribs, scared out of his mind.

The nurse on duty walked over to Punk, alarmed by his fast-paced breathing. "Are you alright?" Punk nodded quickly, and he exhaled a slow, shaky breath. "You need to calm down, he's fine. It was a nightmare."

CM Punk stood up and walked out of the room, not sure what he was doing. His feet took him to his car, where he sat in the back seat, staring into nothingness for six hours.

xxx

"_No me deje. No me deje. No me deje. No me deje,"_ Punk muttered in a chanting type of way, over and over again. "Don't leave me, Chris. Don't leave me. Don't leave me."

A doctor-looking type of person stood near the door and knocked on the window. Punk turned his head slowly, feeling his heart rate increase suddenly. Unlocking the door and walking out of his car, he knew what happened.

"I'm afraid to inform you, Mr. Brooks, your friend has passed away. He left peacefully with no pain."

CM Punk stood there, unmoving, for several minutes. "Sir, are you well?" Punk stared the doctor straight in the eye. "The love of my fucking life just died. DO YOU THINK I'M WELL?!"

"My greatest amount of sympathy is given to you, sir."

"It's not going to bring Chris back, is it?" CM Punk moaned, thoughts flying in his head in every direction.

_I never got to tell him I loved him again._

_Our last moments were a fight._

_Does he know I still love him?_

_I never got to say good-bye._

_I'm such a jackass._

_I've been abandoned._

_I'm alone._

_Should I end it right here, right now?_

_Will this shit ever get better?_

_Can he ever be replaced?_

_Will I burn alone?_

_Will they bury me next to him? _

_Will his death be in vain?_

_What will Vince think?_

_What will the WWE Universe think?_

_Will it be blamed on me?_

_What will the locker room think?_

_Will I be faulted on his behalf?_

_Will they think I murdered him?_

_Will they find out I'm not going out with Kelly, proving WWE is fake?_

"Sir…Sir?" The doctor said, watching Punk's eyes flash with different emotions as he stood still for a few more minutes. "I'm not crazy, I'm psychotic," Punk said, twisting his head all the way to the side. His eyes opened wide, and he bored two holes in the doctor's forehead. _"Y voy a ir caida mismo."_

"Excuse me?"

"I'm going to go hang myself," CM Punk muttered, unblinking. He stood dead in place, not showing any signs of moving any time soon. "Check me into the hospital. I need to be monitored."

"Sir, you need to calm down."

"CHECK ME INTO THE HOSPITAL."

The doctor used his pager to page three more doctors with a gurney, and they tied Punk to it, and wheeled him into the psychiatric department of the hospital. "Where are you taking me?" Punk asked frantically.

"I think he's in some state of shock," A nurse told the head doctor. He nodded, showing her it was pretty obvious. "Let's give him some morphine so he passes out for a bit, maybe he'll come to his senses later."

xxx

CM Punk woke up, and his head was throbbing. He couldn't remember where he was, what he was doing, or why he was in a completely white room. He tried to talk, but something was in his throat. "Clthh!"

"Sir, don't try to talk! There's a tube in your throat!" A woman's voice yelled. She ran over to his cot and took the tube out.

"Where am I, why was I tubed, and what happened?" Punk asked, somewhat dazed. He rubbed his head and felt a few stitches. "Woah, what the fuck?"

"Well, Mr. Brooks, you were in a state of shock for a while, and we attempted to take you to the psychiatric facility here in the hospital, but you took a fire extinguisher and hit yourself over the head with it, so we had to sew you back up, and fix a fracture in your skull. So you were in surgery for 5 hours, a piece of your hip bone is now in your skull, and you're in the hospital recovering from many injuries. And you'll be attending therapy here until you're better."

"But I don't get it. All that happened was a little head fracture. Why am I in the psycho-ward now?"

"Hon, you don't remember?"

"Nope." CM Punk attempted to think back, but could only remember back to when he felt the excruciating pain of the extinguisher on his forehead. "Why am I now attending therapy, ma'am?"

"Do you remember your friend Christopher Irvine?" The doctor said, half-sitting on Punk's cot with him. He nodded. "He slipped into a coma randomly and passed away last night, Phil."

Phil's mind drifted back, and although the memory was blurry, he could remember parts of what happened. "Oh. I remember." He let his head fall. "Is he really gone?"

"I'm afraid so, hon."

CM Punk let all of this process slowly this time, and he smiled at the memories they shared over the short three years.

"_Hey, I'm the new kid here."_

"_I'm Chris Jericho, and I'm back and better forever. You're cute, wanna go out?"_

"_I'd love it!"_

"_Are you really ready, babe?"_

"_I've never been with a man before…Does it hurt?"_

"_Just at the beginning, Philly."_

"_Promise?"_

"_Promise. You'll love it."_

"_Punky, I wrote you a poem!"_

"_Tell me, Chrissy."_

"_Even though we're far apart,_

_We're close._

_And little dolly,_

_You make me smile._

_Cheesecake isn't this good._

_Although you and cheesecake share many qualities,_

_Like the frothy white cream,_

_The sweet middle,_

_And the hard outside."_

"_You're so perverted, babe."_

"_Do you like it?"_

"_Of course I do."_

"_What would you do if I died tomorrow, Punk?"_

"_I'd be incomplete and a total wreck… Don't leave me."_

"_I'll never leave you, sweetie."_

**"_Te amo, Chris. Forever."_**

**_+*+*+_**

**Chapter three soon, I hope it doesn't suck as much as this one. :D Reviews highly appreciated! =3**


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